Colt's Point Of View
The safehouse felt different now. Not safer, just… still. As if the walls had finally exhaled after holding their breath for too long. The burnt scent from the mission still clung to our clothes, but inside this place, everything slowed. No more gunfire. No alarms. No enemies lurking in the dark. Just time.
Krystal sat on the edge of the couch in the living room, legs folded under her, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders even though it wasn’t cold. Her eyes were fixed on the fireplace Elias had managed to coax into life, the flames licking quietly at the wood. She hadn’t said much since we returned. Neither had I. We didn’t need to, at least not right away. Outside, rain whispered against the glass. Inside, silence became our truce.
Elias had taken up the guest
